


Spar

by inbarati



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-15
Updated: 2010-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-08 23:31:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inbarati/pseuds/inbarati





	Spar

"Spar?" Ronon asked as he and John were driven from the infirmary by an exceedingly irritated Carson.

"Yeah." It had been one of those missions, driving both of them to communicate in monosyllables. Rodney and Teyla were both still paralyzed from the Wraith stunner that had hit them. They had almost died, and John felt that the day 'almost' wasn't a part of that sentence was approaching faster than it should.

They headed for the training room without speaking further. John tossed Ronon a pair of sticks and assumed one of the defensive positions Teyla had taught him. Ronon twirled his sticks, briefly, then attacked.

Ronon wasn't pulling any punches. John would be bruised the next day, but he welcomed it. He could deal with pain, it was limited and controllable in a way the Wraith attacks would never be. It gave him something else to focus on.

John saw a particularly fierce attack coming, and tried to spin out of the way, but Ronon was too fast. John ended up pinned face-first to the wall, with Ronon pressed against his back, sticks crossed against the back of his neck. John dropped his sticks, surrendering, but Ronon didn't pull back, still breathing heavily into John's hair. John shifted his hips, and was about to turn around when Ronon growled, pressing further into him. John felt the hot bulge of what had to be Ronon's cock pressing into his thigh. John had just enough presence of mind left to think the doors locked. He groaned and pressed back, his hands dropping to Ronon's hips, pulling him closer.

Ronon growled, dropping the bantos sticks to wrap an arm around John's shoulders, biting hard at the back of his neck, until John's knees gave out. John grunted as Ronon rolled him onto his back, and then moaned as the Satedan settled between John's legs, their cocks pressed together by his weight. John arched, baring his chest and neck, pressing his hips into Ronon's.

Ronon rolled his hips, his hands fisted on either side of John's head. His expression was fierce, and he was sweating, eyes closed. John felt a surge of arousal roll through him at seeing the usually stoic Satedan warrior undone. John rolled them, a little surprised when Ronon let him, and ran his hands up underneath the leather shirt. When Ronon arched back, John bit him just below the collarbone. Ronon shouted, grabbed John's hips, and came.

John continued the motion of his hips, but didn't last long, letting the sight of a panting and sated Ronon push him over the edge.

He rested his forehead on Ronon's broad chest for a few moments, before rolling off to lie beside him. They didn't speak until Ronon got up and extended a hand to pull John up after him.

"Shower?" Ronon raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Yeah." John said, thinking open the doors. He looked up at Ronon. "Thanks." He motioned around them.

"Anytime," Ronon grinned, heading out the door.


End file.
